Trade
by EpochWulf
Summary: OneShot: All T.K. ever knew was the Orphanage; a place where child slaves are raised until purchased by wealthy masters. Suddenly T.K. finds himself in the luxurious home of a blond rock star, wondering about the blond's true motive. BoyXBoy Human Trafficking YamaKeru


**Hello. This is my first Digimon fanfic after a 6ish year writers block! It's YamaKeru/Daikeru... so... boyXboy. Heed the rating. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.  
**

I stared silently out the window, the rain tapping impatiently on the tinted glass of the black car. Everything was black: the paint, the seats, even the passengers were dressed in black overcoats and had black shades. I kept my mouth shut, though I was desperate to ask so many questions. _Where was I being taken? Would I ever see the orphanage again? Would I ever see Daisuke again?_

My name was T.K. Takaishi. I was fourteen years old, and have lived at the orphanage (or so the men in black had always called it) for at least twelve of those years. I owned no possessions except the clothes on my back and a stupid Y-shaped birthmark on my right thigh. I knew nothing of my _real _family; I didn't know any of my sibling's names, if I even had any at that. I knew I had a mother, as everyone does. However I knew absolutely nothing about her, I couldn't tell you her name or what she looked like. All I knew definitively was that I had a nameless father, and he was the one responsible for where I was now.

_Where was I again?_ I looked out the window but saw no familiar site or building; just rows of cars, lawns and houses. A few odd speckles of humanity scattered about, running around with some sense of self-importance, carrying bizarre looking tools which appeared to block out the rain. It was apparent I was in some city, though I didn't know the name of it; in some country I only guessed was Japan, the country of my birth and ethnicity.

Once again I thought about where I was going. No kid really knew, only that we were taken away at around my age, as if we reached some sort of ripeness. The authorities around the orphanage told us that we were going to 'new homes.' The kids at the orphanage told horror stories of all the places outside the _protection_ of the facility. Only a few were delirious enough to think that the _taken_ were being brought to freedom, or someplace of general happiness. I had my own predictions, perhaps scarier then most of the kids' own. While some thought we were shipped away for our labour, I thought our _purpose_ was much more sinister. The _other service_ we provided the people at the orphanage. I thought we were being _sent away_ for our sex. But I didn't want to be sent away for sex! I didn't want to go to a new home. I wanted to stay at the orphanage. I didn't want to leave Daisuke alone there with the men in black!

Daisuke. The last memory I have of him shot through my mind. I was being taken by the _MIB_, their hands gripped around my shoulders, dragging me to the black vehicle. I reached out to Daisuke with my only free hand, his fingers interlocked with mine, his face bent in a desperate stare which begged me to stay. I wish he didn't look at me like that! As if I actually had a choice in the matter! Guilt, that terrible, sickening emotion washed over me as one of the men pulled him back and smacked him across the face, backhanded, eliciting a yelp of shock and pain from the poor boy. And it had all been my fault. I reached for him; it was my fault he had to endure another hit.

Tears threatened to fall from my eyes. I wanted to cry, I wanted to immerse myself in my own sorrow and pity. I wanted to cry for Daisuke. But with all the effort I could will, I didn't. I wanted to, but I couldn't. If I did I myself would surely be hit again. That's what they defaulted to when you did something wrong. If you cry they'd hit you, if you didn't do your chores they'd hit you. When you talked out of line they'd hit you. Or worse, if you did something that _really_ made them angry they'd pull down your pants and spank you repeatedly with a leather belt, a punishment I had to endure many times when they caught me and Daisuke being a little too close and touchy for their liking. So I bit my lip, shut my eyes and retracted into as compact a form as I found bearable, before granting my sobs release in the form of muffled, laboured breaths.

"Turn left up here," the man on the passenger side said. "That house over there, number 423." The driver just nodded but otherwise remained silent.

I wiped away the tears with my sleeve and glanced out the right window. The car decelerated and pulled into a short driveway belonging to a rather worn-down looking house. A man stood on the front deck. He sported similar black shades to the _orphanage men_, but had a long grey coat with an azure scarf wrapped gently around his neck. He wore dark navy jeans and had black dress shoes; overall a much livelier outfit then the generic outfits of the _MIB__**. **_Above him one of those same devices the earlier people were using to block the rain.

The men got out of the vehicle; the driver circled around to my door and opened it, forcefully dragging me out of the back seat. He eyed the wet streaks on my sleeve quickly and I flinched, expecting a slap across my face. For some reason no hit came, and I relaxed slightly, only to be forcefully pushed towards the stranger, the _MIB's_ hand still gripping. The stranger glanced over at me while I stared at him, though I was unsure if any eye contact was made due to his shades. The passenger _MIB_ moved over to the stranger, who traded the briefcase he'd been carrying for a simple envelope. The driver _MIB _released me, albeit rather forcefully, sending me sprawling towards the stranger's feet. However, I hadn't hit the ground. Instead, I found the stranger's arms wrapped around me, catching me in a soft or, dare I say, almost caring manner. Both _MIB_ retreated to the car. We waited as the passenger examined the contents of the briefcase, which I could not make out behind the window's thick tint. The passenger _MIB_ nodded, and the stranger nodded in response. Slowly, the black car pulled out of the driveway, backing onto the street before taking off to wherever, supposedly the orphanage.

The stranger offered me his hand, which I quickly took in fear of repercussions. His hand was sweaty, perhaps from nervousness. Maybe he too feared the _MIB. _

We went towards the doorstep, but instead of going inside the house, we followed a little pathway around to the back of the place. There we trekked through the grass and into a back alley containing but a single car. The stranger unlocked the door for me and I got in. I was thoroughly surprised I was allowed to sit in the front seat, something I was never allowed to do any other time I was in a car. The stranger started the vehicle and soon we were off again to unfamiliar territory.

For a few moments, silence filled the car. I was used to it, but apparently he wasn't, so in an effort to create conversation he mumbled, "You got a name?"

"I'm Takaishi T.K.," I said.

"Alright! I'm Ishida Yamato, nice to meet you." I blinked at his enthusiasm before turning my attention to the outside window. The rain had mostly stopped now, with just a light, mist-like drizzle falling from the sky. Again, the car was silent. Yamato took off his glasses, revealing for the first time his soft blue eyes. I immediately noticed how similar they were to mine. His hair was also very blond, like mine as well. I guessed he's around 20ish years old.

"How old are you?"

"I'm fourteen, I think" I reply. He grunted and looked out the window as if the number carries some hidden significance.

"Hmm do you like reading?" He asks.

I shake my head. "I don't know how to read."

"Oh..." He returns his attention to the road. "So... you like watching television then?"

"I don't know what television is."

"Man, what do you do all the time?"

"Work."

"I mean, besides that..." His voice sounded a little impatient.

"I-I uh..." I think, not wanting to get hit. I didn't really do anything else. If I was lucky I got to play with Daisuke and the others, but more often then not I ended up being used as a sex toy by the pedophiles at the orphanage. But that just didn't roll off the tongue well so I kept it to myself. "Sometimes I get to play with Daisuke..."

"Daisuke hmm? Is he your friend?" I nod solemnly, wishing he'd change the subject. He continued to question me, and I continued giving answers while offering no questions of my own. But two in particular crept into my head. _Why was I here? _I suppressed that one for now but the other question lingered, and as Yamato seemed much more willing to talk then the _MIB_, I risked raising my hand to ask it.

He looked at me incredulously. "What are you doing?"

"I have a question." I say, looking down. Wasn't the gesture obvious?

"Okay, go on," he says. "Oh, you don't have to raise your hand around me, if you have a question, well, just ask it."

"What was in the box you gave to that man?"

"Oh, the briefcase? I gave him money."

"How much?" I dared to ask, seeing how far I could go before retaliation.

"Two hundred fifty K," He states, as if taking pride in the number. I stare at him blankly, not knowing what a 'K' was.

"Err... grand?" He restates. Again I am unsure of what a grand was, in this context.

"Two hundred, fifty thousand." My eyes widened. That was the single largest amount of money I had ever even heard stated. But why, what cost two hundred, fifty thousand dollars?

"Yes," he chuckled, "you were pretty expensive." Wait a second; he had spent all that money on _me_? What could I do that was worth two hundred fifty thousand dollars? I got around one to two dollars for doing lawn at the orphanage, an affair taking many hours. Many jobs paid even less. All the money usually went to vending machines, our incentive to work harder and faster. But two hundred, fifty thousand, what could I possibly do for that?

"W-Why," I stuttered. I looked down at my tanned legs, only to find his hand now resting on them, his fingertips caressing my thigh through the fabric of my shorts.

"You are very... beautiful." He stated, his face red with embarrassment. Feeling me tense up, he removed the offending hand and returned it to the center console. I wasn't stupid and I got the hint, and just as I had predicted too. We were being sent away, or rather _sold_ for our _sex_.

"Here it is!" He pointed out, desperate for a topic change. His house stood alone from most of the others, just on the outskirts of the city. His front yard was big, and his back yard was hidden by a thick wooden fence. The vehicle quickly found its parking place in the garage. Yamato got out and made his way over to the passenger's side. He took my hand and escorted me into his house.

It was big and lavish, and implied he had a decent amount of money. First room was the entrance room which contained a copious amount of shoes he stated were "all his" with a sigh. The walls were painted a light green, the ceiling white and the carpet predominantly brown. It was peaceful and inviting, and reminded me a lot of nature. It was numerous times cozier and more inviting then the orphanage was.

He showed me the living room, and what a television was. And the bathrooms, which all contained marble counter tops, some green and some white with opposite coloured rugs and mats beneath them.

"And this is my room," he stated, opening the door to a room containing a massive king-sized bed, luxurious walk-in closet and en suite bathroom. He beckoned for me to touch the bed, and I was surprised at just how soft it really was.

"You will be sleeping here too," he said, blushing, "with me."

Beside the bed was a nightstand, with it a family photo. Yamato sat down next to me on the bed, and gently pulled me onto his lap. He pointed at each figure in the photo.

"That's me. That's my dad over there. The person embracing him is my mom... although they split and went their separate ways..." He paused, his expression now sad and gloomy. "And that _was _Takeru, my little brother." He offered me no more information then that, but I got the impression Takeru wasn't around here anymore...

"Anyways," he began, trying to be more cheerful, "let's continue the tour."

There was no upstairs, however the basement was just as awesome as the main floor was. It had an entertainment room, spare bedroom, washroom, storage room, and another room filled with instruments.

"This is where my band practices," he said proudly. I eyed up all of the instruments, finding particular interest in a drum set.

"Go ahead," he offered, "touch it."

I touched the primary symbol, and jumped back at the strident _Tssskt _it made when I did so. Yamato only laughed heartily; meanwhile I was scared out of my wits. I had never seen music instruments before, and only heard music on rare occasions. He was eager to show me his bass guitar, hooked up to what he called an amp. He played a few chords for me, and I just relaxed and leaned into the music. After a few moments, he chuckle and put away the instrument.

"You must be hungry, T.K." Before I could say anything my stomach growled. I blushed and I nodded, and once again I found him chuckling.

"Well good, I'm a pretty damn good cook if I do say so myself!" He led me upstairs to the kitchen, where he had me sit at the large round oak table occupying the center of the dining area. He got out a bunch of ingredients and hummed playfully to himself as he mixed them together. The pan (or wok) started sizzling as he threw in peppers, onions, mushrooms, and other things. The smell was absolutely delightful, much better then the same odorless, flavorless oatmeal we had at the orphanage almost everyday.

I found myself thinking _maybe it wouldn't be so bad here after all_.

Yamato set a plate down in front of my face and sat at the opposite end of the table. He started loading his dish with a bunch of condiments. I took mine plain, seeing as how I had never had these 'condiments' before. It was absolutely delicious, and I voiced my opinion, albeit with simpler vocabulary. He nodded, content with his cooking skills.

Afterwards we sat on his huge couch and watched television while eating ice cream. He was laughing at whatever the characters were saying, but I myself was too mesmerized by the physics of the whole contraption, as opposed to the actual program itself. It got progressively darker, until the cloud-covered sky was completely black, not permitting any starlight to shine through.

"T.K., you can have all the food you want, whenever you want. You can watch television whenever you want. If you wish to go outside, you can use that back entrance over there. Just stay behind the fence ok?"

I nodded before saying a genuine 'thank you,' something I had only ever said before to Daisuke.

I hugged him. He was so much nicer then the _MIB. _ Still, I had the impression that I was definitely missing something. This was too good to be true. What was the catch?

"I only ask two things of you," he said as his gaze suddenly became serious. "One, you stay either inside or in the back yard. Do not leave this property unless I say so, ok?"

I nod; an acceptable request.

"And two..." his face became red. "...and that you let me make love to you..."

I froze. I knew it was coming sooner or later. I swallowed but otherwise nodded hesitantly. I would really rather not, but so far things were going well and I didn't want to upset Yamato. I didn't want to get hit. I didn't want to get spanked like I had at the orphanage.

I felt him press into me for a kiss. Not too rough, rather gentle like everything else he had so far done. The _MIB_ at the orphanage did not kiss me. Kissing was something I had only ever done to Daisuke, and in a way I felt more violated being kissed then when I was outright fucked. He sighed at my reluctance.

"I'll be gentle" he said, petting by blond hair. "T.K., come to my room... I'll make you feel more comfortable..."

He sprawled across his (our) bed, completely naked. He beckoned me to come closer with his right finger, his other hand gripping a tube of what I assumed was lube. I glanced over my own body, now completely naked and as exposed as his was. I obeyed and trekked across the carpet to the bed. I gave him control and in a few seconds I was straddling him, supporting my weight with my knees as his fingers gently applied the lubrication to my entrance. I shuttered away shyly but his firm grip on my waist allowed me no room to move. I drew a deep breath, wishing that this didn't hurt. Not like the others, anyways. Perhaps he would be gentle to me, maybe he wouldn't thrust so hard that I bled, as I had many times with the _MIB. _

He was caressing my thigh with his hand, exploring my slight curves when suddenly he gasped, eyes fixated on a particular spot on my thigh. My birthmark. Suddenly and quite surprisingly, any sexual energy in the room immediately dissipated. His face was twisted, as if nauseous. He pushed away from me, simultaneously sending me bouncing down bum first onto the cushiony bed. I was shocked that the mark had caused such a disgusted reaction. Was I no longer beautiful to him?

"I'm sorry," I stated, lowering my head and crossing my legs. I heard shuffling and when I glanced up, I found him semi-clothed and crying.

"I-It's not your fault... I-I'm the one who's-s-sorry." It was very puzzling to me, so I waited for him to continue. He picked up the family picture he shared with me earlier.

"I recognized that mark," he continued, inhaling deeply. He stared at the picture blankly while he talked. "I thought it was just coincidence, but after seeing that I am one hundred percent positive," he looked me in the eye in a way completely different from before; lovingly, but not lustfully.

"12 years ago, my Dad got in deep with some dangerous people. When we couldn't pay our debt, they abducted my younger brother Takeru. They initially held him, used him for ransom but when Dad couldn't pay the debt, they sold him off... I-I never thought I would see you again, Takeru. Your name is not T.K, it's Takeru, and you're my brother!"

**I don't even read Yamakeru fanfiction... but this kind of wrote itself so... meh.  
**


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